The Thirteenth Hour
by dizappearingirl
Summary: Twelve hours. She had twelve hours. Why did she wait until the last minute? -for DP Angst Day-


**Dizgirl:** Hello! I see we have lots of angsty stuff already up for DP Angst Day but how 'bout one more? :D This little one-shot came to me like a bolt of lightning last week and I'm really pleased with how it came out (plus the timing was fantastic!). But of course tell me what _you_ think, 'kay?

Enjoy and love! Disclaimer? In my profile!

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**The Thirteenth Hour**

"N-no…" Kitty's horrified stare reflected dimly in the clock's pale face. She stood there frozen, watching the seconds tick by. It couldn't be that time. No, she had just checked a few minutes ago. It was supposed to be a quarter till. The clock tower must be broken because there was no way it could be _that _time.

But as much as Kitty wanted it, the tower had never been wrong before. It had always been there on a rocky outcrop in the middle of the Ghost Zone, meticulously ticking away the seconds despite the fact that most specters could care less. Kitty knew she could rely on the clock's accuracy whenever she needed to know the time, though it had rarely mattered before.

But it mattered now. Each second mattered because if the clock was right… Kitty couldn't complete the thought but each jolt of the slim hand thudded loudly in the silence, hammering it into her head.

You're too late.

You're too late.

You're too late.

"No…" She brought her trembling hand to her mouth. Pressing her palm to it she then swung her hand out, her lips smacking loudly. But no blue energy raced from her arm, no giant translucent lips that marked her greatest power formed. No person appeared from nowhere to land unceremoniously at her feet. Nothing.

You're too late.

You're too late.

"No!" Kitty snarled. " It can't be—that's wrong!" She blew a second kiss, concentrating hard on the energy that swirled within her being and willing it to come out in the way it had a million times before. She just had to use it right. Bend it one way and a man disappeared. Twist it the other way and he came back. It wasn't that hard!

The ground before her remained bare. No blue energy sparking from her hands, no hint of the person she was trying to bring back. Nothing. No one.

You're too late.

You're too late.

"I'm not too late!" She held her palm to her face and pulled it away again. When nothing happened, she tried again. Again and again she attempted to use her power, her aura growing brighter and brighter as she pushed her energy outwards.

"No, I'm not too late! He's coming back! He's coming back!" Light crackled around her in bursts of sparks, her form wavered dangerously. "HE'S COMING BACK! He _has_ to come back!"

With that Kitty threw all of her spectral energy out in a wave of icy heat. A deafening smack followed, ricocheting off nearby islands and echoing deeper into the Ghost Zone. The strain after such a display left her feeling light-headed and her legs shaky. Before she could recover, they gave out and Kitty fell to her knees. Silence followed in her energy's wake, but she could still hear the second hand chanting.

You're too late.

You're too late.

You're too late.

"But I'm never too late," she whispered. "I always bring him back just in time. How could I…?" Her mind scrambled backwards, trying to piece the past hour together in hopes of finding the mistake, someone to blame. But deep down she knew why.

She had been distracted. It had been as simple as that. They had fought as usual and like he sometimes did, he had crossed the line. In a fit of rage she blew one of her lethal kisses and he had disappeared. Hours later, after she had thoroughly ranted to everyone nearby, she was ready to bring him back, but she thought maybe a little more time in the—well wherever the men she kissed away went—would do him good.

She knew he hated it there. He said it was terrifying, like a nightmare you couldn't escape. Yet as soon as you came back you forgot why, just that it was. So she only used it when he really messed up and this time had been one of those times. A good dose of terror was good every once in a while to keep your boyfriend in line.

But it was only supposed to be a joke, a prank that would remind him to be nice. He'd get scared, she'd bring him back, he'd grovel while she pretended to be mad, and then he'd make a million promises and take her to the human world. Sure he'd slip up again but not for a long time and they'd have fun in between.

That had been the plan. She was going to bring him back just in time. But while she was waiting she had been distracted by her daydreams of their reconciliation. And when she finally realized that it was past midnight…

You're too late.

You're too late.

"Twelve hours," Kitty groaned. She had twelve hours to bring him back. Why had she waited until the last? Why did she risk losing him by waiting until the last minute? She had always brought him back before with plenty of time to spare. Why did she play with something so important?

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as misery—no _agony_—surrounded her.

Because now it _was_ too late. It was the thirteenth hour and there was no going back. There was no way for her to turn back time and rescue him. Forever he would stay in that unknown place, terrified out of his mind and unable to return. Tears blurred her vision and cut icy paths down her face.

"I'm so sorry!" Kitty wailed. "It's my fault! I was supposed to bring you back, but I…" A sob ripped out from her mouth. "But I didn't and now it's too late…" She bent over, curling up into a ball against the pain that crashed down on her.

"I'm sorry!"

You're too late.

"I'm so sorry!"

You're too late.

"I'm sorry…Johnny."


End file.
